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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056377">Who Asks Why When You’re Getting What You Want</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/DahliaVanDare/pseuds/DahliaVanDare'>DahliaVanDare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Accidental Friends With Benefits, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Being an Idiot, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia does not understand those feelings, Ghosts, Going to sleep dirty, Hand Jobs, Idiots AND lovers, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Light Angst, M/M, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Not bathing, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, POV Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, POV Jaskier | Dandelion, Prostitution mention, Reminders of the witcher trials, Scents &amp; Smells, Winter At Kaer Morhen, Witcher Senses, and Geralt smells Jaskier a lot, bad memories, idiots to lovers, no non-con/dub-con roleplay, non-con roleplay mention, witchers can smell moods</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:34:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,792</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29056377</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/DahliaVanDare/pseuds/DahliaVanDare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s Jaskier’s first time wintering at Kaer Morhen. When he comes to Geralt’s room in the middle of the night, the witcher is sure what he’s after, and it has nothing to do with some imaginary “haunting”.<br/>Or<br/>Jaskier can’t sleep because of ghosts and Geralt responds by sexing him up, much to his delight and confusion.</p><p>New summary courtesy of maiNuoire:<br/>Jaskier: I have ghosts, can I crash here?<br/>Geralt: Sure, climb in, are they in your dick? Let me help...<br/>Jaskier: ... wut.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>82</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>278</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they got to the end of their first week at Kaer Morhen, Jaskier was getting jumpy, and Geralt could guess why. He had warned the bard about the isolation, about the company at the keep being confined and unvarying, but Jaskier had assured him he would be fine. He had warned that the audience would not be as appreciative as he was used to, that Lambert was a bastard and he suspected Vesamir was tone deaf, and Jaskier had made a joke about “going back to the good old bread in the pants days”. It’s not that he didn’t want the bard to come, he just wanted to prepare him for the realities of Kaer Morhen life. But apparently all those warnings hadn’t been enough and the bard was already crawling out of his skin before they were even properly snowed in. </p><p>Geralt was woken from a dead sleep by a knock at his door. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>Jaskier let himself in. He was bundled in a blanket. Geralt stared at him from the bed. </p><p>“Good evening,”</p><p>“It’s the middle of the night.”</p><p>Jaskier set his lantern on the mantle, “Of course, yes, the hours of rest and rejuvenation, reverie and rumination. The sable veil betwixt dusk and dawn, the wave that flows implacably towards the morn, the-“</p><p>“What do you want, Jaskier?” The bard was being odd. He stepped closer and Geralt could better smell him, nerves and a hint of, fear? He pushed back the blankets and sat up, took another sniff. The bard’s scent immediately started shifting towards arousal, nervous notes remained, but the thread of fear receded completely. </p><p>“I can’t sleep.”</p><p>“You can’t sleep?”</p><p>“Yes. There’s, uh, there’s ghosts in my room. Can I sleep with you?”</p><p>There it was. The proposition.</p><p>The one thing he hadn’t felt comfortable spelling out in his warnings about wintering at the keep was how the limited company also meant limited options for bed partners. He had said repeatedly that it was just a few witchers all season without visitors or the opportunity to go elsewhere, until Jaskier finally answered back with a quip about “the pleasures of a small group”. Geralt didn’t quite follow the double entendre, but it didn’t really matter; sometimes Jaskier’s wordplay was too abstruse for anyone who wasn’t a master of the seven liberal arts. Geralt took from it that Jaskier’s plan was to find satisfaction with one of the witchers (at least one) and Geralt had put it out of his mind since then. </p><p>So here they were, the bard in his room, asking to join him in his bed. He wouldn’t say the bard’s come-on was underwhelming, after all it was less a seduction and more the request for a favor. And he usually preferred the bard to come straight to the point when he wanted something from him, so if anything the lack of flattery or flirtation was… quite considerate. He was just… a bit peeved that Jaskier had woken him up in the middle of the night to do it. </p><p>His feelings on that sorted, he lay back and lifted the covers. </p><p>Jaskier’s eyes widened and his smell had a punch of surprise. Apparently the bard had not expected him to sleep naked here. </p><p>Geralt waited but Jaskier just stood there. The room was small enough that he would have been to the bed in two steps. His smell shifted back to arousal and nerves but he still didn’t come. </p><p>“Get in.”</p><p>Jaskier tossed the blanket on the foot of the bed and slipped off his boots. He lay down and the witcher pulled the blankets up to their chins. He rested his hand on the bard’s chest and growled “It’s late. I’ll give you a quick hand and then you go to sleep, alright?”</p><p>“Oh! Yes, ok.” He could feel Jaskier’s heart pounding. He didn’t move as Geralt ran his hand down his chest, so he palmed the bard’s cock through his nightshirt. Jaskier gave the most choked off little whimper. Geralt put his nose to the crook of his neck, the intensity of his aroused scent deeply gratifying. He grasped Jaskier’s growing erection through the cloth and pumped him gently several times. </p><p>“Geralt, you, you are awake aren’t you?”</p><p>“Shut up Jaskier.”</p><p>Leave it to the bard to be round about in his pillowtalk, was ‘harder, please’ not flowery enough? Geralt tightened his grip and pumped faster. The bard moaned.</p><p>Soon Jaskier was panting and rocking his hips to meet him and the witcher added a little squeeze. It didn’t take much longer for him to shudder to completion. Geralt put his arm around the bard’s waist and held him close. </p><p>“Good, now sleep.”</p><p>~</p><p>He woke to the bard still snuggled in his arms the next morning. It was pleasant. The witcher lingered in bed a little, reflecting on last night’s turn of events. Geralt had assumed that when he wanted physical company the bard would seduce one of the other witchers, but he supposed this was a reasonable solution too. The line about the ghost was very Jaskier; completely un-sexy, yet leaving little doubt what he’s getting at. </p><p>When he got up he noticed that his hand smelled of Jaskier’s release. He didn’t mind, but that didn’t mean he wanted to hear about it from the other wolves. He looked at the bar of plain, coarse, Kaer Morhen-made soap on the wash stand and got the bar Jaskier had got him out of his bag instead. The scent would better obscure how much he smelled like the bard today. </p><p>While he was at the washstand he heard Jaskier stir. </p><p>“Good morning Geralt,” Jaskier rolled to sit up, “Thanks very much for sharing your bed. It’s- Oh!” “oh right,” Jaskier whispered. Geralt heard the bard wrap himself in the blanket he’d brought and put on his boots. “Well I’m off to get dressed. See you at breakfast.” Jaskier was moving uncharacteristically fast for this early in the morning. </p><p>“Jaskier,” he called out. The bard paused, his hand already on the door. “Your lantern.”</p><p>He grabbed it and bustled out of Geralt’s room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, I was going to wait to post this but I’m high on validation from chapter 1, so it’s here now.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier hurried back through the corridors. There really was no interpretation of the state of his nightshirt that would not leave him in an extremely awkward situation if he should meet any of the other witchers.</p><p>He made it to his room without seeing anyone. He closed the door and leaned against it in relief. “Got lucky there,” he said to himself. The part of his brain that was always looking for the opportunity to make a joke pointed out that he got lucky last night too. Jaskier laughed. That was a good one! Too bad he couldn’t use it. He pulled out his notes and jotted it down anyway<br/>“success - I got lucky - got lucky last night too”<br/>Maybe he’d fit it in a song some time. </p><p>Heating some water gave Jaskier time to try and figure out how in the world he’d gone from being woken by ghosts to getting a hand job from the White Wolf. After dinner he and the witchers had passed the evening playing Gwent, then Vesemir gave everyone a piece of shortbread before they all- wait! </p><p>One of the middle rounds, he had played against Geralt. Geralt couldn’t match his bet because he had just lost most of his money to Eskel. Jaskier had said he was sure Geralt would pay him back, and then Lambert made a crack about the amount being the price of a suck job in most villages, and Jaskier had shot back that if Lambert was whoring himself out he’d earn a higher price in a city, and then Jaskier had won the round. </p><p>Melitele’s tits, Geralt had paid off the bet with that surprisingly enjoyable over-the-clothes hand job.</p><p>Jaskier pronounced himself relieved to have that mystery solved, and decided not to spend any more time thinking about it. </p><p>After all, Jaskier was a big believer in people shamelessly enjoying each other, whether their arrangement was romantic, economic, or one of convenience. Just because he wanted to be the witcher’s lover didn’t mean he’d turn down being the witcher’s friend-with-whom-he-pays-off-bets-with-sex, even if it doesn’t have the same ring to it. And honestly the only thing that had been awkward about last night was being fully dressed while Geralt was naked. </p><p>Jaskier gave himself a vigorous sponge bath. Then he soaked the front of his nightshirt where his spend had dried last night and scrubbed it out. He hung it to dry on the wooden chair and got dressed. </p><p>The room was quite nice during the day. It was larger than Geralt’s; it had been a bunk room for trainees before the sacking. Whoever set it up had been very thoughtful, bringing in one of the bigger beds, a rug, and two cedar chests for his clothes. They even set up a table and chair by the window so he could write, and a box with what looked like an entire winter’s worth of candles. Every afternoon one of the wolves brought him a fresh bucket of water for his washstand and made sure there was about twice as much wood as he’d used so far stacked neatly in the corner. The accommodations were as nice as had been provided for him at any court. If it weren’t for the ghosts the room would be perfect. </p><p>The wolves had daily exercises before breakfast, so it was just Vesemir when he got to the kitchen. Jaskier set the table as the oldest witcher pulled biscuits from the oven and boiled eggs from the pot. </p><p>The other witchers arrived in a group. From their conversation the morning’s practice had focused on Signs. They all sat at the table to eat together. Geralt reached across his brother to grab an egg and Lambert loudly sniffed him. </p><p>“It is you! You smell like lavender!”</p><p>“Jaskier bought me soap on the road after he lost mine.”</p><p>Jaskier felt like he should explain, “The soapseller had a very limited supply. It was either this or lemon balm.”</p><p>The reaction was immediate. Geralt grimaced. Eskel shuddered. Lambert snarled. </p><p>“Lemon balm.”</p><p>“Starts your day with a zing!” Eskel said in a voice that was clearly meant to be an unflattering imitation of someone. </p><p>“Hope kikamoras shit on that mage’s thrice-damned bones.”</p><p>Jaskier was not sure what had just happened, but he could practically taste the foul mood that had descended even without witcher senses. He hated to be the cause of the wolves’ displeasure. </p><p>“I always think there’s nothing you do with a lemon that wouldn’t be far superior done with lime,” Jaskier announced. He knew lemon balm was an herb not a citrus fruit, but it was the first thing he could come up with to change the subject.</p><p>The wolves stared at him quizzically. Jaskier started to feel embarrassed of his attempt to break the tension. </p><p>Eskel piped up “I got some grapefruit by the Law of Surprise once. Like big round lemons with thick skin. Worst fruit I’ve ever eaten.”</p><p>Jaskier laughed aloud and even Geralt let out a chuckle. The cloud of unpleasantness dissipated. </p><p>After breakfast Vesemir gave everyone their tasks for the day. Jaskier was loath to bring up the ghosts; they apparently didn’t bother anyone else, and, well, this place was their home even after death, he would feel terribly guilty displacing them. Especially when he could just bunk up with his best friend.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>That night, perhaps half an hour after everyone had retreated to their rooms, there was a soft knock at his door. </p>
<p>“Hmm?”</p>
<p>Jaskier came in, wrapped up as he had been the night before. </p>
<p>Geralt set aside his book, “Last night didn’t scratch the itch for you?”</p>
<p>“Well Geralt, there are still ghosts in my room. I can stay somewhere else if-”</p>
<p>“It’s fine,” Geralt said quickly. No need for Jaskier to go making demands of one of his brothers. He wasn’t objecting to servicing the bard again, just a little surprised it was so soon. Then again, last night had been quick and efficient, and Jaskier was probably accustomed to encounters that were a bit more personal and lingering. Geralt could do better. </p>
<p>“Come get in bed,” he said, as softly as he could manage without a drink for his suddenly dry throat. The bard shed his blanket and started work on his boots. </p>
<p>Sleeping naked was one of Geralt’s winter time indulgences, but it looked like Jaskier was going to leave his nightshirt on again. </p>
<p>“Is the room not warm enough?” Geralt gestured to the garment. Something flickered across Jaskier’s face, his smell had tints of surprise, arousal, confusion, sometimes Geralt wondered if the bard had ever felt every single emotion simultaneously. </p>
<p>Jaskier took a breath and pulled his nightshirt off. “Well, when in Cintra,” he murmured while laying it on the foot of the bed with his blanket. </p>
<p>“What, watch out for the bloodthirsty queen?” Geralt knew the expression ‘when in Cintra do as the Cintrans do,’ but the ringing laugh that tumbled from his bard was worth looking foolish for. </p>
<p>Jaskier climbed in the bed. </p>
<p>“Here,” Geralt reached out an arm for him to rest his head on, “face me.”</p>
<p>The bard settled under the covers, his face a hands breadth from the witcher’s. </p>
<p>“So I’ll get started?” He knew it was what the bard came for, but it seemed rude not to ask. </p>
<p>“Uh, sure, yeah.”</p>
<p>Geralt reached out to him. Jaskier had a truly excellent thatch of chest hair, and Geralt imagined that his real lovers probably enjoyed it, so he started there. He put his hand in the middle of Jaskier’s chest, burying his splayed fingers in the surprisingly soft bounty. He ran his hand up and down the bard’s sternum. It was nice. Jaskier seemed to like it too. </p>
<p>Geralt let his hand venture lower, stroking the skin of his stomach and cupping the curve of his hip. Geralt reached out and ran the back of one finger from just under Jaskier’s navel across his pubic hair and down his half hard cock. </p>
<p>He heard the bard’s heart rate jump. The scent of Jaskier’s undiluted arousal made Geralt feel warm inside and as his finger made the reverse journey he could feel him hardening further. He stroked him with his finger a few more times before taking hold. The bard tried to muffle a moan against the witcher’s arm, but his bicep was entirely unsuited to the task. Geralt pulled him closer so Jaskier’s face could nestle in the crook of his neck. He tried to match the firm pressure and quick pace that Jaskier had enjoyed the night before. </p>
<p>The bard was panting against his throat and flung the covers off of them. Geralt could see the sheen of sweat over his skin and the flexing of Jaskier’s muscles as he thrust himself in to the witcher’s hand. He had been so focused on Jaskier that he didn’t think about his own arousal until the back of his thumb brushed against the tip of his own hard dick. He wanted to pump his cock and Jaskier’s at the same time so he threw his leg over the bard’s hip and pulled him closer. When Geralt adjusted his grip to hold both at once, Jaskier moaned and started mouthing at his neck. Geralt found the combination of sensations very pleasing. </p>
<p>Jaskier wrapped his arm around his waist and Geralt pressed his nose against him, filling his lungs with his scent. </p>
<p>“Oh Geralt I’m, I’m- ”</p>
<p>Jaskier came hard and Geralt found himself following almost immediately. Once they had caught their breath and settled into a more relaxed, but still intertwined position, Geralt wiped his hand and pulled the blankets back over them. Jaskier made a contented sound and patted the witcher’s pec. On the path having Jaskier close was a comfort, Geralt assumed it was because it limited the kinds of trouble the bard could get in, but he found that even in the safety of the snowbound keep, having Jaskier in his arms let him rest easy. </p>
<p>As they drifted off to sleep, Geralt realized he had wiped their combined spend on Jaskier’s ass cheek.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier awoke in the stuffy darkness of having pulled the covers over his head while he slept. He could feel that he was being tenderly cradled by a muscular naked man, and the air under the blankets smelled intensely of sex, so the broad strokes of the situation were familiar enough that his first instinct was to nuzzle his bedmate awake and see if they both felt like another round. But the man he was entangled with was Geralt, and Jaskier wasn’t sure if things were like that for them. He rolled on his back to contemplate what it was like, but their combined mess had stuck their stomachs together when it dried. Pulling apart did not feel good. Now all Jaskier was thinking about was wanting a bath. He slipped out of bed and put his nightshirt on over his crusty skin. </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>Peeling himself off the witcher had woken Geralt, but he hadn’t moved to get up. </p><p>“I’m famished. Better get ready for breakfast,” Jaskier said, grabbing his things and slipping out the door. He wasn’t sure why he’d lied about wanting to get cleaned up, it just, it seemed too close to talking about what they’d done, and they hadn’t talked about it out of bed yet. Hell, they’d barely talked about it in bed, each time Geralt had just offered him a hand and then went to town on him. And it was so good. Jaskier tried to tell himself his enjoyment was because Geralt was attentive and easy on the eyes, and not at all because he was in love with his witcher. </p><p>Then again, it’s one thing to get someone off, but you don’t join in unless you’re at least kind of into it. Jaskier wasn’t going to pretend Geralt could be in love with him too, but maybe found him a little attractive? It was a pleasant thought. </p><p>~</p><p>That afternoon Jaskier was singing a little song to the animals while he fed them, and he had an idea. He could sing to the ghosts. Maybe if he played something soothing they would go back to wherever they were when they weren’t in his room. He’d try it tonight. </p><p>~</p><p>He sat up in bed with his lute at the ready. Soon the floating points of light appeared. He knew that in a few minutes whispy bodies would coalesce around those lights and the ghosts would wake. Jaskier played a lullaby. He kept his voice gentle but clear, hoping to sooth the restless spirits. The bodies formed as they had the other nights; translucent and lit from within, sleeping in what must have been bunk beds. Then half of them wake with a start. Jaskier keeps playing. They look toward the door. Some of them get up right away, others seem to wait as if they aren’t sure what disturbed them, but then they seem to hear something that makes them get up too. The rest are also waking or being woken by their roommates. Jaskier’s song has no effect. Almost like a pantomime, the ghosts seem to light invisible candles, put on invisible boots, or draw invisible swords from their invisible scabbards. All Jaskier can see are their ghostly figures, not the objects they interacted with in their own time. He keeps singing his lullaby, but they do not hear. As a group they all run out the door, passing through him on the way. As each apparition moves through him, he feels what they felt- fear, determination, confusion, terror. It was exactly as it had been every other night he had been awake for it. His song had made no difference. </p><p>Jaskier left his lute on the bed. He slipped his boots on and hurried to Geralt’s room before the ghosts came back.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I’m also on tumblr @DahliaVanDare</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lambert was playing against Vesemir in the last Gwent game of the night, and they were really dragging it out. Vesemir played against the younger wolves so rarely that they always watched any game he did play intently. At the time they usually wrapped up for the night, Jaskier announced he was going up to his room to play for the “ghosts”. It made Geralt’s stomach feel funny to hear him mention them in front of the others, his flimsy excuse for seeking Geralt’s bed. </p>
<p>“Melitele’s boundless ass, he is dramatic,” Lambert said, once Jaskier was too far away to hear them, “why can’t he just say he’s going up to practice his lute?”</p>
<p>“Maybe he wants to play for us but doesn’t want to impose. We should ask him for some music tomorrow,” Eskel suggested, showing his kind heart, “would he like that Geralt?”</p>
<p>The bard, Geralt knew, wouldn’t be scared to impose his music on any audience he saw fit, including witchers, but he also knew Jaskier would be pleased to be asked, so he gave an affirmative ‘hmm’.</p>
<p>Geralt tried to watch the rest of the game, but he was distracted. He was still hung up on why Jaskier had mentioned the ghosts in front of the others. They didn’t know the bard like Geralt did; for all Jaskier knew the other wolves would think there really were ghosts. (They’d cleared out all the malignant presences decades ago so no one was actually worried, but the bard didn’t know that.) Was he laying the groundwork to approach one of them tonight? Geralt did not like that idea at all for some reason.</p>
<p>And why was he even so committed to the ghost bit?</p>
<p>Maybe it was some kind of role play. It was understandable that Jaskier would need something to help work himself up to getting touched by Geralt. He knew he wasn’t who the bard would prefer in his bed; despite Jaskier’s broad ranging tastes, he’d never propositioned Geralt on their travels. </p>
<p>Over his decades on the Path Geralt had had a few warm bodies offered as recompense, usually prostitutes, but some people who offered to pay with sexual favors were clearly titillated by the idea. The first such offer had come when he was new to the Path, and he might have taken them upon it, but they called him a brute and said a few other things which suggested they wanted Geralt to be rough with them while they screamed their false protests, and that was not something he was interested in. But Jaskier was the romantic sort; he wouldn’t be surprised if the bard was imagining some sort of saved-by-a-witcher, love-at-first-sight scenario. He could hardly begrudge him that, imagining love. Geralt wondered if he should be doing or saying something to help with the fantasy?</p>
<p>Geralt barely registered that the game had ended, couldn’t for the life of him say who had won. He unthinkingly accepted the bedtime shortbread Vesemir offered around and carried it up with him. When he got closer to his room he listened for lute music, but instead he heard Jaskier’s footsteps. </p>
<p>The bard came around the corner just as Geralt reached his own door. He waited for him and brought him into his room. Jaskier looked a little off. The odor of recent fear lingered, and he currently smelled… sad? Geralt did not like that. He gave Jaskier the piece of shortbread he still carried and set about building up the fire. </p>
<p>“I don’t think the ghosts could hear me playing.”</p>
<p>“Hmm.”</p>
<p>Geralt got the logs positioned the way he wanted. </p>
<p>Jaskier brushed crumbs off of himself, “That shortbread really did hit the spot. Thank you, my dear witcher.”</p>
<p>Geralt took off his clothes. He noticed Jaskier was staring at his bottom. He didn’t want to think about which of his scars had caught the bard’s attention, so he closed the distance between them. </p>
<p>Geralt put his hands on the bard’s hips and grasped the fabric of his nightshirt, “You want me to take this off for you?”</p>
<p>Jaskier nodded. The scent of arousal poured off him in waves as Geralt gathered the fabric and slipped his hands under it. Geralt ran his hands up Jaskier’s hips and waist, his thumbs lightly catching on Jaskier’s nipples as his hands journeyed up the bard’s chest. Geralt raised the garment over his friend’s head and arms and tossed it on the foot of the bed. He returned his hands to Jaskier’s ribs just below his pecs, thumbs reaching toward those sweet nipples but not touching them. </p>
<p>Jaskier closed his eyes and pushed Geralt’s hands up his chest. </p>
<p>“More,” he whispered. </p>
<p>Geralt had the fleeting thought that he would do anything the bard asked him in that voice. He used his thumbs to flick and press the pair of apparently quite sensitive nipples. </p>
<p>Jaskier threw his head back with a groan. “Oh yes, witcher, yes!”</p>
<p>Witcher, right, the fantasy. Geralt wanted to help with it, but he had very little to go on. He shifted to nuzzle against Jaskier’s neck so he could monitor any slight changes in his scent. The shift brought their bodies so close he could feel Jaskier’s chest hair against his skin. </p>
<p>“Shall I take you to bed?” he growled in what the bard had once called his witchering voice. It elicited a shiver. </p>
<p>“Please.”</p>
<p>Geralt pulled the covers back and then picked Jaskier up. He laid him in bed and got in with him, straddling his hips.  Jaskier was blushing. The fire had yet to fully warm the room so Geralt pulled the blankets up over them both. When he put his face back down to smell him, the bard mouthed his neck and pawed at his back. Geralt went to work on his nipples again and Jaskier moaned into his shoulder. </p>
<p>The bard grabbed his ass and tried to pull him closer. “Please Geralt,” he breathed. </p>
<p>Geralt ground their cocks together, pressing a little grunt from his bard. He started rolling his hips. He didn’t notice where Jaskier’s hands were until one squeezed between them and wrapped around Geralt’s dick. Jaskier continued to press it against his own as he pumped at an almost punishing pace. Geralt let himself enjoy it for several minutes, but as his orgasm got close, he put his own hand on Jaskier’s cock, matching the pumping of his hand to that of the bard’s. He hoped Jaskier would finish with him. </p>
<p>The bard nibbled his ear and Geralt was seized with the desire to taste Jaskier’s skin. He flicked his tongue out to lick the crook of his neck where his face was still buried in his scent, but one taste was not enough. He licked the side of the bard’s neck and the graceful line of his throat. He licked him again and again and each one elicited another little moan of pleasure from his bard. </p>
<p>With a jolt of his hips Geralt came. He barely stopped himself from collapsing on top of his bard. He rolled on to his side and pressed against Jaskier’s lovely body. The witcher scooped the dollop of spend off Jaskier’s stomach and spread it on his bard’s prick as he started pumping him again. Jaskier rolled his hips up into his grip. </p>
<p>“Oh, oh Geralt,” he sighed in pleasure.</p>
<p>He threw his arm up over his head, which stretched his chest enticingly. The firelight highlighted his skin with a golden glow, making his chest hair look all the more dark and inviting. Geralt nuzzled in to it. The hair was so soft, and his smell was cravable. </p>
<p>“Please, my neck again Geralt, please.”</p>
<p>He returned his mouth to Jaskier’s neck, swirling licks from the base of his neck up to his earlobe. </p>
<p>“You taste so good.” Geralt had not intended to say that, but it was true. He hoped it fit in whatever fantasy had his bard arching under his hand. The way Jaskier was moaning, maybe he hadn’t heard. </p>
<p>He could feel Jaskier’s cock pulse as he came. He liked how the orgasm left his bard limp and panting in his arms. It was nice. </p>
<p>Geralt went to stroke his bard’s stomach and accidentally put his hand directly in Jaskier’s spend. He produced more of it than a witcher, even when he wasn’t pent up. It was all over Geralt’s palm now. Hmm. This time he made sure not to wipe his hand on Jaskier, reaching over to the edge of the bed and wiping it on the sheet instead. The blankets had fallen off while they were busy, so Geralt covered them back up. Jaskier snuggled up to him and they fell asleep pleasantly intertwined.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hi All! I know this chapter has taken a while. Aside from general busy, my writing has been slow going since I got that grammar/style criticism back in February. I type these on my phone. I try to proofread, but sometimes autocorrect gets me. Some writers request critiques on the fanfictions they write for fun; I'm sure not one of them.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I’m also on tumblr @DahliaVanDare</p></blockquote></div></div>
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